Another Round
by consultingpathologist
Summary: An average night out at the pub takes an unexpected but pleasant turn when a mysterious classmate comes to Molly's aid. Unilock.


_**This was for a tumblr challenge from aaaages ago that I didn't finish in time and then let linger around in my drafts. The idea was to pick from a list of AUs and opening/closing lines and write a story. I've always wanted to try Unilock so here is my attempt. Imagine that this takes place in the early 2000s when (I believe if my dates are accurate) Sherlock and Molly were actually at uni.**_

 _ **Prompts:**_

 _ **AU: You saved me from a creepy guy at the bar (Unilock)**_

 _ **Opening/Closing Lines: "I already regret this." / "I owe you."**_

* * *

"I already regret this."

It didn't matter that Molly spoke these words out loud since the noise of the pub swallowed them up leaving her the freedom to complain at will. She could already feel a headache forming in her temples from the thumping Irish rock streaming from a stereo in the corner of the bar and the loud conversations that resulted as people strained to make themselves heard over the noise. After spending the past three nights studying in her quiet dorm room, the noise was particularly more jarring than usual.

It seemed as though every uni student was currently taking up residence in the place. Molly had to practically shove her way over to the table where her friends sat waiting. They had managed to coax her out of her room even though she knew she should be studying for her biology exam. They wouldn't take "no" for an answer, so here she was in an old jumper that should probably not have worn in public and unwashed hair that hung limply down her back. A shower would've been a good idea, but it had slipped her mind as she had been more focused on school than hygiene in the recent weeks. _Oh well_ , it wasn't like she was here to make an impression. It was just supposed to be a fun night out drinking and laughing about Meena's string of bad dates. She quickly pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tried to push out all the stress from her mind for the time being.

It seemed though that Meena and Caroline had other ideas about their girls' night out as she spied two unfamiliar male companions sitting at their table. Molly greeted them with hugs and was introduced to Ben and Max, who seemed to be a couple of friendly, though frankly dull, blokes. Luckily, they had a pint waiting for her which she eagerly sipped. As they all chatted and complained about exams and annoying teachers, she felt the tension in her body loosen up letting her start to enjoy the atmosphere.

It wasn't long before her glass was drained dry. After checking to see if anyone else wanted another round (they were already on their third), she wandered to the bar for a top-up only to find that everyone else had chosen the exact same moment as well. While she waited for the bartender to become available, she felt the eyes of a man sitting on a stool running up and down her body.

"Hey miss, haven't seen you here before," the slurred voice spoke to her.

 _Shit_.

She glanced at the balding middle-aged man without turning her head and sighed. This is why she hated these places. Couldn't a woman get a drink in peace without unwanted attention from creepy older men?

When it became clear that the man would not stop staring or giving her drunken smiles that made her queasy, she replied curtly, "Yes, there's a reason for that."

She hoped it would silence him, but unfortunately he just laughed it off. "Oh a funny lady, I like those."

To her horror, she felt his breath on her neck as he leaned in closer to her. But before she could even react, an arm encircled her waist and a deep baritone voice spoke in her ear that was loud enough for the other man to hear.

"Sorry I'm late. This man isn't bothering you is he?" She looked up in surprise and saw that the arm and voice belonged to a tall younger man (a fellow uni student most likely) who had dark curly hair and wore a posh looking shirt and trousers. His eyes focused pointedly at the man on the stool causing him to back off. Her first thought was that this stranger had mistaken her for someone else, but when he turned to look at her she noticed a gleam in his eye and realized what he was doing.

"Oh, hi. I-I have things under control." The older man sneered at the two of them, grabbed his glass, and stumbled off to search for other women to prey on leaving Molly and her sudden mysterious pretend boyfriend alone at the bar.

"Two pints, please," he said to the suddenly available (of course) bartender and removed his arm from her waist.

"I really did have things under control, but…thanks. I'm Molly, by the way." She offered her hand, which he took in his much larger one and gave a firm shake.

"Sherlock Holmes," he replied looking at her with such intensity that she felt her cheeks flush. She told herself it was just the alcohol in her system and not because of the beautiful blue eyes that were studying her. "I wasn't going to interject until I saw him get closer."

"You were watching me?" she asked suddenly feeling insecure.

The bartender handed them their drinks and Sherlock spun around and pointed to a table where a couple sat in deep conversation, totally oblivious of everything around them.

"My friend John and his girlfriend Mary dragged me here and I don't know why since they have no use for me. To keep myself entertained I've been trying to figure who in this pub is cheating on their significant other. That's when I noticed Mr. Drunk-and-Recently-Divorced try to make a move on you."

"Oh. Wait, how did you know he was recently divorced?"

Sherlock pointed to his own ring finger. "Tan lines on the finger revealing a recently removed band. Tired eyes from repeated unsuccessful nights spent at the pub. Expensive new clothes with creases still intact that were bought with the hopes of making an impression. Not to mention his obvious desperation since he's almost twice the age of everyone in this pub. Simple deduction."

"Yes, _simple_ ," she replied sarcastically.

Molly looked over at Sherlock's friends. The blonde girl with a pixie cut was laughing at something her no-doubt cheeky boyfriend had spoken into her ear. She responded to his joke with a quick peck on his lips.

"Sickening, isn't it?" Sherlock mumbled, taking a sip of his drink.

"I think they're sweet." It was impossible to look at the pair and not see a couple in love. Molly looked over at the table where her own friends sat laughing. No doubt Meena was keeping them entertained with her usual bawdy jokes. She pointed them out to Sherlock. "It's the same with me. My friends convinced me to come tonight and then happened to pick up some dates before I arrived. Looks like we're the third and fifth wheels."

Sherlock grunted and turned around so he was facing Molly again. "I believe we have a class together."

Now that he mentioned it Sherlock _did_ look familiar. She racked her foggy brain when she suddenly remembered a long-legged boy who sat in the back of the room and slept through most of class. "Oh right, chemistry isn't it?"

"Not a very challenging class isn't it?" he said with a sigh.

Molly thought the class was rather difficult, but she would never admit it to him. "It's…interesting, I mean I wouldn't call it easy necessarily."

She was more surprised by the fact that he had remembered her considering he didn't seem to pay much attention in class except to occasionally argue with the professor. But then again, he didn't seem like the type that ever forgot anything. Maybe he was one of those people who had a photographic memory. Whatever particular gift he had, Molly was instantly fascinated. He noticed things, _little_ things, like he was trying to get to the heart of a person and find out their deepest secrets. It was something that she had always been accused of.

 _"You're too caught up in the details, Molly."_

 _"But the details are important."_

Maybe she did worry about things too much, but she couldn't help that it was just her nature. Here was someone who shared that interest in the small things.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

The unexpected question interrupted her hazy memories and caused her to cough into her glass. "Um…I-"

"I didn't mean it like _that_. I just mean…do you want to get out of this dingy place and take a walk or something?"

She looked up again into those clear blue eyes waiting for her response. They had lost their confident sparkle and now looked at her rather innocently. There was almost a shyness about him now that surprised her as she had though he wasn't capable of such a feeling.

For a reason she couldn't quite put a finger on, she knew she could trust him. Unlike most of the uni boys, he wasn't looking for a one-night stand. He seemed bored by the pub and the people in it. Why he wanted to spend more time with her though she had no idea.

"Sure, um, let me go tell my friends and I'll be right back."

There was an undeniable thrill that surged through her body at the thought of spending more time in his presence, more so than with any other boy she'd gone out with before.

"Well he's quite fit, isn't he?" Meena replied while eying Sherlock from across the room after Molly told the group she was leaving. "God, those cheekbones…but I will personally beat him up if he tries anything."

"Don't worry, he's not that sort. Besides you taught me karate, remember?"

Molly hugged her friends goodbye with promises to call later, grabbed her coat, and rejoined the antsy-to-leave Sherlock.

They silently made their way out of the pub and stepped out into the brisk night air. She pulled on her hat only realizing then that it was the bright yellow one with earflaps that her mother had knitted for her and clashed drastically with her red duffle coat and pink mittens. She felt rather juvenile in her bright colors compared to Sherlock who could have stepped out of a fashion magazine with his long coat and dark clothing. When he paused to loop a scarf around his neck, he looked at her rather curiously but didn't say a word about her appearance. She made a mental note of this in his favor.

Molly thought they were just taking a casual stroll, but Sherlock seemed to have a destination in mind. At first it was hard for her to keep up with the stride of his long legs. He must have heard her huffing and puffing because he eventually slowed down his pace without complaint.

They walked side-by-side, closely enough that the edges of Sherlock's coat occasionally would brush against Molly's legs as it swished about with his movements. They maintained a comfortable silence, each occasionally making a comment about a building or a class but neither feeling the pressure to speak.

Before she knew it, they were standing in front of the university science department building with Sherlock revealing a key in his gloved hand.

"Oh, do you have permission…I mean are you allowed-" she swallowed thinking about the strict policy forbidding students in the buildings at night.

"Technically no, though Dr. Bell did say I could use the labs whenever I want. He just doesn't know I use them at night. But relax, no one ever comes here this late."

Something about Sherlock made her feel more daring. She shrugged as if breaking the rules wasn't a big deal, "I suppose it's okay then."

They made their way into the dark empty building. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust before they could feel their way about the hallways. The old building seemed larger than life at night. At one point the noise from a radiator caused Molly to jump and collide against Sherlock's chest. He laughed gently as he steadied her and pointed out the source of the sound.

"I promise you there's no one here."

After her heart stopped racing (which she assured herself was from the brief scare and _not_ from the physical contact with his rather firm torso and the feeling of his hands on her shoulders), she recalled what a pleasing sound his laugh made. Low and rumbling deep within his chest, its vibration could almost be felt in the air.

They continued on with Molly's adrenaline surging. She felt like a little kid playing a game of forbidden hide-and-seek, with Sherlock and herself versus rules and authority. It was rather out of character for her and she had to admit there was something enjoyable about that. What would her friends say if they could see her now? Usually she wasn't such a daredevil.

They reached the chemistry lab without any more disturbances or scares. Sherlock entered the room first and turned on a small lamp giving the room a warm glow instead of its usual harsh florescent lighting. The shelves of chemicals and tables with lab equipment were softly illuminated making for a strangely intimate atmosphere in what was usually a cold and sterile place.

Molly walked around the room aimlessly before settling onto the edge of a desk. "Why do you come here at night all alone?"

He shrugged and dug his hands into his pockets. "I can do my experiments without getting distracted."

"Yeah, but it's so…lonely," A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined being there by herself. "So you're studying chemistry then?"

"Yes and you?"

"Biology, though I'm also doing medical studies since I'm planning on medical school later on."

"Oh?" His face perked up. "What field?"

"Um, actually…well, I haven't told anybody this yet, but I really want to go into pathology." She paused, biting her lip as she waited for the inevitable look of revulsion.

But it never came, instead his face brightened.

"I'm a little worried about people thinking I'm crazy for choosing that area of study, but I've always been fascinated by diseases and solving puzzles so it kind of combines all my passions."

"I don't think it's weird at all. It's a necessary and important field. I've studied it quite a bit on my own. I don't have the patience for additional school after university, but I'm sure it would make for a fascinating career."

There was something warm in his voice. Molly felt her hands unclench and relief flood through her body to have someone not think for once that she was unusual for her interests.

"So what _are_ you planning on doing then after graduation?" she asked trying to figure out this enigma of a man.

Sherlock sighed deeply. "Honestly I haven't given it much thought."

He was rich, Molly suddenly realized. If the clothes hadn't already given it away, his lack of plans for the future did. Molly didn't have the luxury of sleeping during classes or being apathetic about her career plans. She was on a scholarship, the only way she was able to go to this school. She had to keep her grades up if she wanted to succeed.

Sherlock must have been reading her mind. "I know what you must think of me-rich kid who gets everything handed to him. It's part of the reason I could never continue with further education. I need to venture out on my own. I could never work for anyone but myself."

Molly could see that. "You're good at figuring people out. Surely there's something you could do with that."

"I've actually helped the police on several occasions when they were too clueless to miss what was right in front of them."

Somehow Molly could never picture Sherlock in a uniform. "A detective?" she offered.

"Something like that, though I'd have work separately from the department."

"Maybe they could use outside experts to help when cases get too complicated."

"Maybe." The word hung in the air between them as they studied each other.

"I don't think you're quite like anyone I've ever met before," Molly spoke the words almost as a whisper.

"So I've been told, though usually in less friendlier terms," he answered with a small grin.

A sadness in his eyes kept her from smiling back. There was something quite lonely about him. He might say he preferred being alone, but everyone needed people in their life. She could understand why people might be put off by him, but she found she quite enjoyed their time spent together.

They chatted for another hour about school and other interests. Molly found out Sherlock liked the theatre and preferred classical music. He learned about Toby, the kitten she'd rescued and hid in her room violating the dorm rules against pets (maybe she was more of a rule breaker than she thought). He was easy to talk to and clearly passionate about his hobbies. Most importantly he seemed to get her sense of humor and she was able to hear that wonderful laughter several more times.

In the distance the bell tower chimed reminding them of the lateness of the hour.

"I guess I better get back before Meena sends out a search party."

He nodded and as they silently walked back through the dark hallways he took her hand and held it all the way until they were standing outside her building. Molly wondered if he could hear how quickly her heart was beating because it was deafening to her ears. It was such a simple act of holding hands but the feeling was incredible.

Sherlock finally let go when they were standing outside her door. He quickly stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and become fascinated with kicking a pebble at his feet. "If you want to…um…get together sometime or something…I mean, only if you want-"

"-Yes, I do," she replied quickly, not caring about playing it coy, and lifted her hand to brush a curl from his forehead. It had caught him by surprise and he looked at her with such tenderness that for the next few days all she could think about were those blue eyes gazing at her.

"After all…" she smiled thinking about their meet cute in the pub, "I owe you."


End file.
